Give Me A Break
by NerdAngel
Summary: A birthday one shot for Dean. (16 Dean, 12 Sam)


**A/n: I promise I didn't forget that it was Dean's birthday, I've been busy with work and life lol. That being said, for all of us in Ca and some other states, it's still his birthday. So here's a little something for that.**

 **Thank you to anyone who reads, reviews, and/or favorites it and thank you to my usual shout outs, you know who are.**

 **I hope this is at least decent lol.**

When most kids turn sweet sixteen, they receive one of the best gifts they would ever get. To most, it was a brand new car full of bells and whistles. To others it was a party to end all parties, complete with live entertainment, gourmet food, fancy drinks, great company, and an outstanding venue. Something where people would talk about it for days and would start planning their own, hoping to out do their so called friends. Still others were treated to an event or dinner where the ticket or check cost more than any meal they have ever eaten. Maybe it wasn't anything fancy, maybe it was just something like a new puppy or kitten, because, you know, responsibilities. But it was cleverly masked because most kids love the idea of having a pet.

What Dean Winchester got for his "sweet sixteen," was three large claw marks that went from just below his armpit, down to right before his hip on his left side.

"Dean!"

He dropped to the ground with a yell, putting his hands instinctively to his side. Sam took aim and planted a bullet into the werewolf's right shoulder. It let out a whimper followed by a snarl and turned to face the younger Winchester. Sam's eyes grew wide and he shot off another silver bullet, this time, it hit it on chest. The monster didn't go down, but instead ran off further into the woods away from the boys. With the immediate danger gone, Sam stuffed the handgun into his waistband like he had seen his father and older brother do, and took off to Dean. "Are you alright Dean?"

"Did you get it?" His brother asked ignoring the question he had been given.

"I injured it," he said. Dean growled in frustration.

"So that son of a bitch is still running around?!"

"We've gotta get you home," the younger boy said as he tried to pull his brother's hand away from the wound. "Dean stop, let me see!" He demanded. The teen rolled his eyes and allowed Sam to push back his hand. The wound was an angry red and blood was still oozing from it. The entire left side of Dean's over shirt and undershirt was torn. Sam quickly shrugged off his jacket and pressed it to his brother's side. "Here, keep pressure on it," he instructed.

"I know how to take care of a wound Sam."

"Alright can you get up?" The older boy grimaced as he moved to get to his feet. The motion irritating his side. "Easy, easy Dean," the boy coached "try to stay straight."

"I know!" Dean snapped. It took awhile, and some unwanted help from his little brother, but he finally was back on his feet.

"Are you going to be ok to drive?"

"Of course I will be," Dean replied. "Here Sam," he dug in the pocket of his jeans and tossed his brother the keys to the car. "Get in and lock the doors. Keep that gun out too, I'll be back." Sam's head snapped up so that he was staring up into his brother's eyes.

"What? Where are you going?" He panicked.

"I've gotta gotta take that bitch out."

"No!"

"Sam, dad gave us this mission."

"I don't care!"

"I have to finish this thing, he'll be pissed if he finds out that I let it get away."

"I don't care! We're going back to the motel room and I'm patching you up."

Dean rolled his eyes reluctantly, limped off in the direction of the car. They managed to make pretty good time despite his injury. Sam was able to help his brother a few times before the eldest Winchester boy pushed him away and insisted on being able to do it himself.

By the time the brothers made it back to the motel room, and again Dean refused help from his anxious sibling, the color of the teen's face was drained. Sam quickly opened their motel door and ushered Dean to stratle the toilet seat, demanding he take off his shirts and don't move from that spot. His brother answered with a grumble under his breath and the younger brother set off to collect everything he would need to fix his sibling. When he came back, he found Dean's shirts and his jacket which they had used as a make shift bandage, didn't hold up in the car, on the bathroom floor. When the teenager's eyes fell on the bottle of disinfectant, he gave Sam a discontent glare.

"What?"

"I hate that shit, whiskey is so much better. At least you can drink the stuff after you use it." Sam rolled his eyes and got to work pulling out the utensils he needed. "Yeah well, Dad doesn't leave any alcohol laying around when he's gone," he said a he grabbed a clean towel from the rack. "Alright, brace yourself." The liquid hit Dean's wound and instantly began to burn. He hissed and flinched slightly, but refused to make any bigger of a scene than that. It had been the equivalent to how he had reacted when he drove them back to the motel. He had flinched and hissed every time he had had to push down on the the pedal or stomp on the brake. Sam had placed the towel so that it caught the majority of the rubbing alcohol saving them, or the maid, a mess. Once that was done, he wiped down the skin around the wound, poured some more disinfectant on a needle, dried that off, and laced it with dental floss.

"Hey Dean, thanks," Sam said as he stuck the needle through the skin and began to zig zag it the way he had been taught by their father.

"What for?" The teen asked contorting his face so that it was a mix of confusion and discomfort.

"For saving me. I mean, if you hadn't stepped in when you did-" Sam kept his attention on his task at hand as he fell silent. "I'm sorry you got hurt and I know it could have gone worse, so, thank you for that." It was silent as Sam continued to weave the dental floss in and out of his brother's side.

"I fucked up, big time," he answered.

"Dean-"

"He's gonna be pissed. I shouldn't have-"

"He's not going to be-well, he shouldn't be mad. We're alive right? If you hadn't distracted the werewolf from me, I probably would be in ribbons right now." Sam finished up the first claw mark and started the next.

"Yeah..."

"Tell Dad it was my fault, I mean, it kinda was and even after, I still missed my shot." Dean pulled his eyes from the spot on the floor his gaze had been fixed on prior, and turned slightly, causing Sam to stop and look over at his brother.

"I don't blame you Sammy," he replied.

"You can't always take the blame Dean. You know, not EVERYTHING is your fault."

"It's fine. This one's on me. I was too slow, I didn't think it through well enough. I let my guard down and now it's still running around out there."

"Yeah but Dean, I-"

"Its fine." Sam nodded to show he understood what his brother was saying. The teen turned back around and Sam continued to stitch him up. The remainder of the time the younger Winchester sewed up the injuries, neither boy talked, only a sporadic hiss or cuss came from Dean which caused his brother to bite his lip nervously.

Once the wounds had been sewed up the best they could, Sam ran them through once more with rubbing alcohol. Then stepped back.

"Alright you're all done. It's not as good as Dad's, but it's decent. I'll go get you bandage and you'll be set."

Before his brother could say anything, the youngest left the room, and returned only a couple minutes later. He added the ACE bandage he had found in one of the bags, and pitched up the injury.

"Not bad Sammy," he said with a proud smile. Sam returned the gesture.

Dean moved to get up from the seat, grimacing at the movement but also being grateful for the change in position. He walked carefully and slowly out of the bathroom with Sam behind him.

"Hey Dean?" The teen turned to face his younger sibling.

"I uh-I know it's not anything much and I wish I could get you something better, but-" Sam stuck his hand into his sweatshirt pocket, and pulled out a King size KitKat bar. A smile lit up Dean's face as his eyes fell on the chocolate. "Happy Birthday Dean," Sam replied with his own smile emerging.

"Thanks Sammy, this is awesome."

"I thought, at the very least, you deserved something sweet."

Maybe Dean didn't have a sweet sixteen like everyone else, then again, he wasn't everyone else. He was Dean Winchester, monster ganker. He didn't have time for fancy parties with fancy food and thousands of people surrounding him, and he was perfectly ok with that. With his little brother in his company and a King size candy bar at arms reach, this was all the sweet he needed for his sixteen.

"Well then Sammy I guess there's only one thing left to do tonight."

"Watch bad tv?"

Dean laughed and his side flared up in protest of the movement, but he ignored it.

"You know it. Now about that KitKat, how's about you give me a break?"


End file.
